The Mad House
by FinnickOdair-Will-Live-Forever
Summary: When a viscous car accident renders Annie insane, she's sent away to the Panem Home for the Mentally Wounded. Finnick knows that he will never see her again, but what if by some sick twist of fate they meet under the most unfortunate of circumstances?
1. Annie's Descent

**Hey guys. :) This idea just kind of came to me a few days ago. I'm not sure if it'll go very far or very well, but I may as well give it a go. :) This is my first Finnick and Annie fic that isn't a one shot, so if it's crappy that's probably part of the reason. I don't own The Hunger Games.**

"Come on, Annie. It's seven o'clock, get out of bed." Annie's mother attempted to encourage Annie out of bed. She pressed her cool hand to Annie's forehead and sighed when Annie mumbled a short 'no'.

"Think about it, Annie. It's the last day of school, and then after the summer you won't be a freshman anymore. Plus, it's your birthday in three days, you'll finally be fifteen." Annie's mother grinned as her daughter wearily pulled herself out of her bed.

"You just like to torture me on mornings, mom. Seven o'clock? Really?" Annie sighed as she pulled on her robe.

"Well, you shouldn't have been up so late talking to Finnick Odair if you knew that you would be tired."

"Shut up. He's my friend." Annie grumbled.

"Come on, the 'mom taxi' leaves at eight. Get dressed and by the time you're ready, I'll have some bacon ready for you." Annie's mother ruffled her daughter's hair affectionately.

"I love you, mom."

"I love you too, Annie."

…

"Are sure you picked everything up?" Annie's mother asked her from her seat in the car next to her.

"Yes mom, I'm sure." Annie rolled her eyes and smiled playfully before reaching over the back seat and picking up her back pack.

"Are you getting a ride home?"

"Yeah, with Clove and her dad. I'll see you tonight, okay?" Annie leaned over and kissed her mother on the cheek.

"We'll do something fun this evening, okay? We can go down to the lake like we used too." She brushed a hand over her daughter's cheek.

"I'd like that." Annie smiled sincerely before pushing open the car door and hopping out. "See you later, love you."

"Have a great day, little starfish." Annie's mother hit the gas pedal and drove away from the high school as her daughter chuckled at her mother's nickname for her. She had just turned away from the road to walk up the path when the screeching of tires was heard. Annie spun around, her eyes immediately finding her mother's car as a lorry five times its size ploughed into the driver's side. Annie screamed and raced forward towards the now-wrecked car. Before she could reach it, somebody tackled her to the ground on the island in the middle of the road.

"Let go!" Annie struggled, rolling over slightly to see her captor's face. "Damn it, Finnick! Let go of me!"

"You don't want to see whatever's down there, Annie. Trust me when I say it won't be pretty." Her best friend said, holding her tightly as she beat her fists against his back.

"No! She's hurt, I have to help her!" Desperate tears started to stream down her cheeks as she fought against Finnick.

"Annie, please." Finnick pleaded with her. She brought her knee up and thrust it into Finnick's groin.

"_Oof!_" His grip on Annie loosened and she managed to wriggle out from under him. She dashed across the road, ignoring Finnick's groans of pain. Already, a crowd had gathered and she heard the faint sound of a siren in the distance.

"Mom!" Annie yelled. She pushed her way through to front of the crowd.

"Don't look, kid." A woman tried to shield Annie's eyes, but she batted her hands away and leapt towards the ruined car. Her mother's mangled body looked completely lifeless. Annie collapsed to the ground, sobbing.

"No!" She screamed. "Not her!"

"Annie, it'll be okay." Finnick managed to shove his way through the crowd and dropped down next to her. He held her as she tried desperately to hit him.

"Let go! I don't know you! I don't know any of you! _Let go off me!"_

"Annie, it's Finn. I'm going to help you, I swear." Finnick searched her eyes, but they weren't even the same shade of green anymore. Something had snapped inside of her and he knew that there was no coming back from the place she had now reached.

"I hate you, I hate you all! Let go!" Annie screamed manically. Finnick held her tightly as she bit at him until the paramedics came and sedated her.

"What will happen to her?" He asked one of the paramedics who had stayed at the scene as the ambulances, one containing Annie and the other her mother's body, zipped around a corner.

"It's hard to say at the moment. What she saw in that car…It will have traumatized her to say the least." The paramedic ran a hand through his hair.

"I looked into her eyes- she isn't sane anymore. I get it, though- she saw her mother die." Finnick admitted. "Will I ever get her back? I mean, I know I won't get her back completely but...Will she ever be almost the same?"

"I'm not sure. You'll have to visit her; she'll be kept in the hospital. Give it a few hours before you head down there though, she'll need to be checked out." The paramedic said, before picking up his kit and leaving Finnick alone in the middle of the street.

…

Annie was terrified. She was more terrified than she had ever been before, even more so than when her father was still around. She sat trembling in the hospital bed, her knees pulled against her chest.

"I want my mom!" She yelled, sounding more like a five year old than an almost fifteen year old. A doctor in a white coat approached her with a clipboard tucked firmly under one arm.

"Annie Cresta?" He asked.

"Do you know about my mom?" She asked frantically. "I have to see her!"

"Unfortunately, I cannot allow that. This lady is going to help you more than the hospital can." He pointed stiffly to the lady behind him before leaving the room. Annie's gaze rested on the lady, who came to sit by her bed. She had grey hair, smile lines around her eyes and a soft smile on her lips.

"Hello." She said. "My name's Mags. What's yours?"

"A-Annie." She stuttered in response.

"That's a pretty name." The lady, Mags, had a soft voice. "I know what you're going through. I was sixteen when my mother…Passed."

"It's not fair." Annie mumbled as tears started to stream down her cheeks again. She pressed a hand to her eyes and gripped Mags' hand tightly with the other.

"I know, sweetheart. I'm here to help you." Mags reassured her.

"How? You can't bring her back. Nobody can." Annie squeezed her eyes shut, but all she could see was her mother's mangled body, her bleeding head against the steering wheel. Her eyes shot open again.

"No, but I can help you in other ways. Annie, what you've been through today…It's traumatizing for a young girl, or anyone for that matter. I want you to come and live with me and other people like you in a very special place." Mags said, squeezing Annie's pale hand softly.

"You're taking me away?" Annie ripped her hand away from the old lady's and clamped it over her mouth to conceal her shock. Her eyes, however, still brimmed with tears.

"No, Annie. It's not like that. You'll never recover properly if you stay here, so we'd like you to come to the Panem Home for the Emotionally Wounded in the next town over. We might even get you in a new school if you've recovered enough by next year." Mags reached for Annie's hand again, and the younger girl let her take it.

"People like me? Do you have names?" Annie asked. She was unsure about whether she truly wanted to leave or not. This was town where had mother had raised her, but it was now the town where her mother had died.

"Well, there's Katniss. She's nearly fifteen like you and with us because her father and sister were killed in a bank robbery. Jackie is nearly thirteen, and she's in Panem because her family abandoned her. I assure you that you'll get along very well with each of them, and it's in your best interest to come."

"I…I'll come."

…

Finnick waited patiently for three painstakingly long hours before he gathered a bag of Annie's belongings from her bedroom (of course, he knew where they kept the spare key) and cycled to the hospital. He practically leapt off of his bike and ran inside the hospital without even chaining it to a tree.

"I'm looking for Annie Cresta." He told the lady at the help desk. He was panting heavily and sweating from the bike ride, but he didn't care. He just wanted to be there for Annie.

"Room 125." The lady said in monotone, barely glancing up from her computer screen.

"Thanks." Finnick mumbled, before jogging towards the staircase. He took them two at a time until he reached the second floor. He ran down the corridor until he found Annie's room. He burst inside and was greeted by two nurses re-making a used bed.

"Where is she?" Finnick asked. The nurses stared at him blankly. "Annie Cresta. Where is she?"

"Oh, her." The younger brunette nurse said.

"She's gone." The other redheaded nurse said.

"Gone? As in…" Finnick trailed off, his blood turning cold.

"Oh, good God no. She's gone off to some home for traumatized children." The brunette said, her mouth forming an 'o' at the worry on Finnick's face.

"It's not Panem, is it?" Finnick asked, sighing deeply.

"Yeah, that's the one. Panem Home for the Emotionally Wounded, I think it's called." The redhead added. It took all of Finnick's willpower to not sink to the floor. He had heard about that place. It was a supposedly a great place, but they didn't allow visitors. They said that stressful visits slowed down the recovery process, or something stupid like that. Finnick and his friends, minus Annie, had laughed about the poor idiots that got sent there and cut off from civilization. They'd even given it a name.

Annie Cresta, his best friend since they were twelve, was going to the Mad House and Finnick doubted he'd ever see her again.

…

"So…This it?" Annie asked, a little shaky as she stepped into the foyer.

"Yes. Let me take you to your room." Mags led Annie past staring eyes, through a lounge filled with teenagers and children, then through three doors and two corridors.

"Number twenty six." Annie read the number from the door.

"You'll be staying on your own for the first few months, but then we can talk about getting you a roommate." Mags said, unlocking the door. She then gave Annie the key and stepped back.

"I'll leave you in peace. The dining room is at the far end of the corridor, but it's your first night so I'll understand if you choose not to join us. I hope your room is okay." Mags smiled warmly at Annie.

"Thank you, Mags. I-I appreciate it. I…" She trailed off and stepped into her room, slamming the door behind her before Mags could see her cry again. She let her eyes wander around the room. A bunk bed rested against the middle wall, a bedside table on either side of it. A wardrobe stood opposite it, next to a curtained window. There was a wooden door opposite the door to the room, and Annie presumed it lead to a bathroom. A bookcase stood on one side of the door to the corridor, and a desk stood on the other. The floor was wooden, the walls were white and the ceiling was pale yell. Annie sighed as she made her way over to the bunk beds and pulled herself onto the top bunk.

"Mom." She muttered as she lay down on top of the covers with her head on the pillow. "Come back."

That was the moment Annie Cresta reached the point of no return.

**Should I continue? If I do, this'll be like a prequel and the next chapter they'll all be a bit older.**


	2. Finnick's Trial

**I don't own The Hunger Games. :)**

**Three Years Later:**

"You say you saw the defendant yesterday morning at exactly twenty one hundred hours spray painting the wall of the city hall?" The chief prosecutor working the case asked the witness. He was short, balding and chubby. Finnick rolled his eyes as he saw him sweating through his shirt.

"Y-yes ma'am." The man stuttered, nervously wiping his hand over his forehead. Finnick sighed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His attorney sat next to him, shifting through a stack of papers, presumably looking to pick holes in the prosecution.

"Then at twenty one and a half hundred hours you saw the defendant pick up a rock, throw it at shop window and then run in the opposite direction?"

"Yes ma'am, I did."

"That was when you called the police, Mr Harris?" The prosecutor pushed her black rimmed glasses further up her nose. The witness trembled under Finnick's unforgiving glare.

"Yes." He said, almost inaudibly.

"Could you say that again, please? A little bit louder so the recorder picks you up."

"Yes." Mr Harris said after clearing his throat, louder than before. The prosecutor turned to face the judge.

"Thank you, your honour. No further questions." The prosecutor shot Finnick a smug smile, causing him to roll his eyes.

"I have no questions for the witness, your honour." Finnick's attorney said to the judge. Finnick whipped around to face him.

"What the hell? You're just gonna let her win that one so easily?" He whispered.

"There's nothing I can do for you now, Finnick. I'm sorry."

"Yeah. So am I." Finnick glared at his attorney. "Why is my mom even fucking paying you, moron?"

"We will be back in an hour with our verdict. Court adjourned." The judge said. Raking a hand down his face, Finnick stood and allowed himself to be pulled outside by a policeman.

...

"Finnick Odair, I am _so _disappointed in you." Finnick's mother rested her hands on her hips as she paced around the large living room. Ever since Finnick's father left them two years ago, they'd had more money than they knew what to do with. With one less mouth to feed and millions of dollars of inheritance, their lives were considerably better. Finnick had attended the same private school until he was sixteen. That was when he got kicked out for fighting, vandalism and stealing from the teachers. He'd somehow avoided jail time, and of course Finnick hadn't stopped there. He talked a man out of pressing charges against him when he had stolen his car and taken it for a joy ride last year, and he a trial three months ago for drunkenly assaulting a teenager. He pleaded not guilty, but Nancy Odair knew that her son was very much guilty. The worse part for Nancy was that she knew Finnick's behaviour had nothing to do with his father walking out on them. He acted the way he did because he had lost a girl that she doubted Finnick even remembered.

"It could've been worse, mom." Finnick was laid back on the couch, flicking through television channels and trying to ignore his mother's agitated pacing.

"How?!"

"I'm eighteen- I could have got jail time." He shrugged.

"You got two hundred and fifty hours of community service and an eight hundred dollar fine! Oh, that's coming out of _your _allowance. I don't care if it takes you weeks, months, whatever. You're paying me that fine." Nancy snapped. She stopped pacing and sank into an armchair.

"Chill, mom. It's only eight hundred." Finnick rolled his eyes, finally settling on a movie from the ninety's.

"What am I going to do with you, Finn?" Nancy rested her head against her palms. "Annie wouldn't have wanted this for you."

"Who's Annie?" Finnick asked.

"Please tell me you're kidding." Nancy said without looking up. She knew it would do her no good. He had blocked out all memories of his childhood best friend years ago.

"I don't know an Annie. I know an Allie." Nancy could hear the smirk in her son's voice. "I used to know her _very _well."

"I don't need to know about your little trysts, Finnick."

"I never said you did." He shrugged and shifted in his seat.

"Do you know where you're going to be doing your community service?" Nancy asked, sighing impatiently.

"Yep." Finnick said, popping the 'p'.

"Are you going to tell me?" Nancy rubbed at her eyes wearily.

"Maybe."

"I'm not going to take shit from you, Finnick Odair. Where and when is your community service?"

"Three days, at the Mad House." Finnick rolled his eyes.

"Don't call it that." Nancy winced.

"Why? That's what it is, isn't it? 'Panem Home for the Mentally Wounded', that name's bullshit. You get dumped in there and you never leave again. It's worse than prison, because they trick you into thinking that it's a nice place, a good place, a wonderful place filled with wonderful people that only do fucking wonderful things. It's not like that there, mom! They rip the one's you love away from you and then they turn them against you. I hope that place burned." Finnick spat. His usually calm sea green eyes were practically smouldering with anger.

"You do remember." Nancy whispered. She rose from her chair, and Finnick rose from the couch.

"Of course I remember." He mumbled, before crushing his mother into a hug. "I tried to visit her once when I was fifteen, remember? I got all the way to the corridor, the corridor that held the door to her room. They caught me before I could find her. They told me it would be better for her if she had no reminders of her past. I couldn't handle it, okay mom? I just _couldn't_."

"It's okay, Finn. You're still my baby boy- you still have me and your sisters." Finnick towered above her, but Nancy reached up and brushed the hair from her now sobbing son's forehead.

"I'm a screw up. I shouldn't have tackled her, I should have let her seen her mother's body. At least then she wouldn't hate me." Finnick mumbled into his mother's shoulder, sniffing loudly.

"She doesn't hate you, Finnick."

"She does."

"She _doesn't_." Nancy snapped, stepping backwards so that she could see her son's face. "What she went through was very traumatic. She'll never be the same; her emotions won't ever really be _hers_ again. She doesn't hate you. She's scared and has scrambled up thoughts."

"I miss her, mom. I miss my best friend." Finnick dropped back down onto the couch again. He wiped his eyes with the collar of his shirt and sniffed again. His crying was over, but he felt considerably better.

"Then you go in there on Thursday, and you earn her trust back." Nancy said confidently. She had finally solved her son. He wasn't a thug, rebelling because someone had been taken from him. He was a sad boy who once wore his heart on his sleeve, and he had been ripped apart when Annie Cresta had lost her sanity and her home. Now that she knew how, she could finally get the mad girl with the dark hair to fix him in ways that Nancy knew she herself would never be able too.


	3. Annie's Trouble

**Sorry this has taken me so long. :( Thank you so much for all of the positive reviews though. :) I don't own The Hunger Games.**

Annie sighed happily as a beautifully iced cake was wheeled into the lounge area. She was seated on a purple bean bag in between her best friends, Katniss and Finch. _Best friends_. The words sounded weird whenever Annie thought about them. It was like there was something missing from her life that those words were linked too. Or maybe, she thought, some _one_.

Today was not about Annie Cresta. Today was about Seeder Thatch, a nineteen year old girl that had been admitted to Panem when she was twelve after her house caught fire, killing her parents and three brothers. For Seeder, today was the day that everyone dreamed of having for themselves. The House had deemed her mentally fit for rehabilitation. She had packed her things, and by tonight she'd be asleep in her new bed in the house that Panem had paid for and helped her choose, somewhere in New York. Annie didn't exactly know where- the two had been friends, all of the girls here were, but they hadn't been that close. However, she did know that Chaff had been invited down specially from the boys ward to say goodbye to his best friend. This was a big deal at The Home. Usually, the only time the boys and girls mixed was in the dining room during mealtimes. They were certainly _not _allowed in each other's lounge areas.

Annie zoned out when the others started to sing the leavers song. It reminded her of her mother singing to her when she was little and stayed home ill from school. It hurt to think of her mother, and she never knew which memories would set her off and which would not. She zoned in again when Finch elbowed her in the side.

"They're cutting the cake." She explained. Annie watched as a staff member cut the cake into sixteen pieces. Once it was cut, a group of three girls and Chaff pulled streamers out from behind their backs and blew on them, hard. The loud noise that erupted from them made Annie tremble. _Oh no._ She thought to herself. _Not now._

She tried her best to hold the screams in, she really did. However, she could not. She had released six eardrum-shattering screams before three members of staff managed wrestled her into a wheel chair and cart her off down the hall. If this had not happened so many times before, she would have barely known what was happen. She would not have known that she would be sedated as soon as she reached the medical ward; she would not have known that a least three other girls would start screaming as well; she would not have known that Katniss and Finch would hold hands and squeeze their eyes shut until the screaming around them stopped and the bad memories faded.

For Annie, the bad memories were always at the back of her mind, just waiting to seize her sanity all over again. Katniss had not seen her father and sister's bodies. Finch's family was still out there somewhere, alive. Annie was one of the few girls that had actually seen a dead body. Images of the scrambled car, the mangled body and the soaked red dashboard whirled through her mind, crimson as the blood itself had been that day. Scream after scream escaped her lips, until she was draped in sheets and dropped onto a hospital bed. That was when the darkness came.

There were a lot of things Annie Cresta knew that she shouldn't know. There were a lot of things that she didn't know that she should know. For example, perhaps she should have known, even as she was wrestling with the staff, that her tortured screams were enough to send Seeder Thatch right back into her bedroom at The Panem Home for the Emotionally Wounded for the next few years to come.

…

"On Mondays, you'll oversee the girls' group of four therapy sessions. Tuesdays you'll help the boys with any homework they may have received, after cooking breakfast with our chefs. Wednesdays, you'll spend all day in the kitchen and then on Thursdays you'll help the girls who don't attend school with their private study sessions. Fridays you'll help our site team with the gardening and if they run out of work for you, then you'll come up to my office and help with my filing. Saturdays will be when you will listen in on both the girls' and the boys' one-on-one sessions with the therapists, so long as they agree and are well enough to have you there. Sundays are free days at The House, so I'd like you to get to know some of our patients. You'll be working seven hour days for a little over five weeks, unless decide to apply for a more permanent volunteer position."

The woman that Finnick was following down hallway after hallway was older than the other staff members he had seen by five or ten years. She had said that her name was Mags and that she ran the place. Finnick hated her, because he was easy to like. How could someone who had taken Annie away from him be so likeable?" _Annie_. He was going to see her. He was finally going to lay eyes on her after three years of waiting. His mother had to be right- she didn't hate him. She _couldn't_.

"Yeah, like _that's _gonna happen." Finnick scoffed. Mags stopped walking and the corridor went silent without the sound of her stilettos clicking on the wooden floor.

"Mr Odair, I assure you that this is a professional environment. We do our very best to give our patients the care and attention they so desperately need. Sarcasm will not be tolerated. One bad word from me to the judge and you'll be in juvenile detention before you know it. Understand?" Mags asked calmly. Finnick got the feeling that she would have been way scarier if her hair had not been silver and she did not have smile lines surrounding her eyes.

"Yes, ma'am." Finnick responded politely. He waited until her back was turned and she carried on walking before he threw a mock salute at her.

"Like I said, Mr Odair." Mags said without turning around. "Sarcasm will not be tolerated. Now follow me. You're probably hungry."

When Finnick stepped into the dining room, without Mags, thirty pairs of eyes turned to watch him as he peeled his through the tables to get to the short line. He grabbed a plate and a tray and pushed it up to the serving ladies.

"Tuna, cheese or ham?" One asked. She did not offer him the same warm smile that she gave to the patients.

"Um, tuna please." Finnick answered. The serving lady placed a tuna sandwich on his plate, cut into to rectangles.

"Thanks." He muttered, moving onto the next lady. He chose fries over chips, and then he chose cola over water and milk from the only serving lady that was actually, in fact, a guy. Finnick picked up his tray and let his gaze wonder over the room. Patients, he learnt, wore blue bands around their wrists. Staff wore yellow bands. Shrugging, he made his way over to the closest table of patients.

"Hey." He said. "I'm Finnick."

The two girls and four boys at the table stared at him in shock. One guy, to Finnick's disgust, had an open mouth full of ham sandwich.

"What?" He grumbled, taking a bite out of his sandwich. There was nothing he loved more than seafood- a lover that he and Annie had shared together.

"New guys usually aren't so laid back, that's all." The blonde girl sitting opposite him shrugged. Half of her face was thick with scars. "Hey, where's your band?"

"Huh?" In response, the girl tapped her wrist. _Right. _Finnick thought, feeling around in his pocket for the yellow wristband. _I'm not wearing my band. They must think I'm a another patient. _

"I didn't get mine yet. The staff were too busy fitting a mask for me." He said calmly. By now, Finnick had finished his sandwich and half of his fries.

"What?" The boy next to him asked.

"Oh, yeah. A mask." Finnick said. "A wolf got into my house and mauled my family to death. It scratched off half my face but honestly, I got lucky. The light of the Lord must shine through me."

"Oh my gosh!" The brunette girl on the other side of Finnick had gone bright green. A boy at the far end of the table was trembling and looking like he was about to have a break down. Finnick couldn't stop himself- he burst out laughing. He slipped the yellow band onto his wrist. He then scoffed the rest of his fries and grabbed his coke can.

"I'll see you suckers later."

With that, he left the dining room, still cackling to himself from the evil joke.


	4. Finnick's Beginning

**I don't own The Hunger Games. :)**

"I'm telling you Clove, this is utter BS." Finnick Odair muttered into his phone as he started his car's engine.

"Yes. Volunteering is the crappiest thing that you will ever do with your life." Clove answered sarcastically.

"Hey, volunteering's cool. Community service isn't." Finnick pulled out of the driveway and into the quiet road. He usually loved that he could walk out his backyard and onto the Florida beach, but today the salty air was suffocating him.

"Well then. Maybe you shouldn't have smashed a window and spray painted the city hall, smart guy." Clove was easily one of Finnick's best friends. Not because she was some ray of sunshine good time girl, but because when he got tired of Cato's meat-headedness and Gale's party obsessions, Clove's sarky attitude brought him back to reality. He confided in her not because she was a good listener, but because she always reminded him that: 1. There were worse problems than his, and 2. It was probably all his fault anyway.

"Whatever. I think I'd rather have jail time." Finnick sighed and switched the radio on. Some shitty, fluffy pop song was playing so he groaned and turned it off again.

"You don't mean that, bone head." Clove said matter-of-factly.

"Alright, alright. I wouldn't. You know me."

"Yeah, I'm the shit."

"I can't believe it's twelve o'clock and I've already left the house." He said as he turned onto the road that would take him to The Mad House.

"I can't believe you don't have to leave until twelve." Clove scoffed. "I have to be at my parents' stables by eight o'clock so I can shovel shit until the kids actually start showing up."

"Sucks to be you, Clover." Finnick grinned. He decided not to point out that he was actually supposed to be there three and half hours ago.

"Fuck you; you know I hate that name." She growled into the phone.

"So why does Cato get to call you that?" He laughed. He waited for a response, but there was none. He pulled his phone away from his ear and looked down at it- she had hung up on him. _Of course_. He thought to himself. Nine out of ten of their phone conversations resulted in Clove hanging up on him. By now, Finnick had reached Panem. He sighed one more time before climbing out of his car and walking into the reception area of the glorified prison.

"You're late, Mr Odair." Mags said once the receptionist had rang for her. Her silver hair was loose again, and she was wearing a long skirt, pumps and a dark blue blouse with a white blazer.

"I'm offended that there's no valet service here, Mags." Finnick said, placing his hand on his chest and letting his jaw drop.

"Besides," He added. "You should be glad I showed up at all."

"May I remind you one more time Finnick that you are currently serving a sentence. Just because you're not wearing an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs doesn't mean you're not being punished. Now, I would thank you kindly to go and join the site crew in the main garden. You can work through lunch." With that, the lady who was growing to irritate Finnick so much, turned on her heel and left without another word. Finnick allowed himself to sigh once more, before trudging out of the double doors and into the heat again.

…

"How's your day been, Annie?"

Annie Cresta sat opposite one of Panem's five counsellors, in a room painted lime green. In her opinion, this session was the worst out of all the sessions with therapists, doctors, other patients and psychiatrists. Counsellors were paid to listen- they didn't offer medical advice or a diagnosis, they didn't share personal experiences and honestly they just didn't give a shit.

"It's twelve o'clock. We're barely out of the AM." Annie responded sulkily. The counsellor sighed and removed his glasses to rubs his eyes. Annie was definitely one of his more difficult patients. However, she was also one of the sickest and had made remarkably less progress than her peers at the Home. She could manage a conversation, but not loud noises. She could for a jog, but not a drive. She could break a bone, but blood made her scream. He slid his glasses back on his face and painted a smile on his lips.

"Fine then. How was your previous evening?" He asked. That was a question that Annie had to think about. She heard rumours that there was a new staff member, a volunteer. _Who would be whacked enough to volunteer somewhere where people are more likely to rake your eyeballs out than tip you? _She had thought when she heard the rumour. However, she had also heard Simone, the blonde girl with face scars whose room was across from Annie's, say that he was unbelievably hot. Annie thought she had heard her say a name, Finnick, but she must have heard wrong. There was no way that murderer could be here. Not at Panem, the only place she had felt safe in since her mother had…

"It was fine." She shrugged.

"You know Annie, the sooner you start actually _talking _to me the sooner we can start to make your life happier and healthier." The counsellor pointed out.

"I am talking, Mike. See my mouth move? Yeah, it's moving because I'm talking." Annie replied bluntly, staring out of the window. She could have sworn she saw a flash of bronze hair from around the corner of the building, but she put it down to all the pills she had to take.

"You know what I mean, Miss Cresta. I'm your counsellor; you can open up to me about anything."

"Like what?"

"Like anything you want." This was the third time they had this conversation in the five weeks Mike had been a counsellor at Panem.

"But, like what?" Annie asked, hell bent on being difficult. She looked out of the window again, this time seeing a face as well as the hair. From the fourth floor of the building, she couldn't see him clearly but she thought he looked vaguely familiar. _I guess that scumbag _has _taken a job here._ The thought was enough to make her tremble, a sign that a break down would inevitably follow before the week was up.

"Oh I don't know Annie, anything! You can talk about your friends, your family, your old house, your habits, that boy you keep staring at out of the window…" Mike trailed off as Annie shot him a glare.

"I do not keep staring at him! I was looking at the…Palm trees." She protested.

"Then how did you know who I was talking about?" Mike smiled. Getting Annie to finally open up would mean she was one step closer to finally talking about the accident with somebody.

"Oh, look." Annie glanced down at her watch. "Session's over."

She picked up her thin cardigan and hurried out of the door. Mike raked a hand over his face and flipped his folder shut. _When, _he wondered, _will she stop being so scared?_

…

All Finnick could hear as he dug hole after hole in the flower beds surrounding the outside eating area was the giggles of girls that had never seen a six pack before. He had gotten too hot, so he had taken his shirt off a good hour ago when the patients were in sessions. Now, he could feel the glares from a select few of the male patients who were eating their lunch. They were obviously the ones that thought they were all that, the ones who weren't really sick anymore and would be leaving soon, Finnick decided. He wiped sweat off of his brow before turning around to face the patients. Some of the girls blushed, giggled and whispered.

Finnick rolled his eyes before returning to his work. Annie was nowhere in sight and she was, after all, the only one that Finnick really cared about.

**So, Annie's caught sight of Finnick and doesn't like that he's at the hospital, because her memories are twisted so she blames him for her mother's death. Finnick's yet to see Annie again, but he is feeling pretty optimistic that she won't hate him. Looks like Finn will get a bit of shock when they finally meet again…**


	5. Finnick's Realization

**I'm doing a SYOT and I need some more tributes if anyone's interested. :) I don't own The Hunger Games.**

_In the dream, Annie was floating in a bottomless lake. She was lying on her back, wearing a white dress that should have been sinking her. Instead, it helped her float and she glided aimlessly through the still waters. Her head hit against something, and she moved so that she was looking at the object in the water. It was a small wooden fishing boat, similar to the one her grandfather had taken her out on many times when she was young. Annie swam around to the side and pulled herself onto the deck, using the rusty ladder attached to the side._

_Everything on the boat was the same as it had been when she had been twelve years old. The floor still creaked, the paint was still chipped and when Annie pushed the cabin door open, it still creaked like it had before. Her white dress was heavy now, and seemed to grow heavier with every breath she took._

"_Hello?" She called out, because surely somebody must be on board. "Granddad?"_

"_Annie?"_

_The voice was coming from the deck, but Annie had already been up there. Frowning, she shoved her way back through the door that led to the deck. A figure was leaning against the railings, facing the water. He was definitely not her granddad._

"_Um?" She muttered. He spun around, and Annie recognized him as soon as his bronze hair caught the light._

"_Annie." He grinned._

"_Finnick!" She gasped_

"_I've missed you." Finnick didn't grin like he had when they were fourteen- this grin was animalistic, feral._

"_You killed my mother." Annie accused. If her memories were true to her, and she was sure that they were, Annie's mother had yelled to her that day as she swerved to avoid a lorry, narrowly missing it. Annie had run towards the car, but Finnick had knocked her down. When she had pulled herself free, the car was off of the road and her mother was bleeding out on the dashboard._

"_But Annie…I had to knock you down." Finnick mocked her, placing a hand on her shoulder._

"_No you didn't!" Annie batted his hand away. "She was fine until you knocked me down!"_

"_Oops." Finnick snarled. He gripped her arms and dragged her towards the railings. She screamed out for her mother, her grandfather, for the Finnick that used to be._

"_Now you'll see her again." He laughed, before throwing her over the railing. This time, Annie's dress didn't help her float. The heaviness she had carried around with her since she pulled herself free of the water was now the thing that was sinking her._

When she woke up, Annie was screaming. Almost immediately a nurse was in her bedroom, brandishing a needle.

"No!" Annie yelled at her. "It was just a bad dream, I swear!"

The nurse looked at her with doubtful eyes, but slowly lowered the needle.

Annie took a deep breath, attempting to stop the trembles that usually resulted in her being sedated and pushed away in a wheel chair. _I can do this_. She thought to herself. _Just think of happy places_. Images flashed through her mind. The beach house her mother had owned, their house back in Pensacola, beach days with her friends and eating ice cream in August. Slowly, she started to calm down.

"Not a bad one?" The nurse asked when Annie's trembles had almost stopped. _Terrible_. She thought to herself. At Panem, if you stop the spell yourself, which Annie occasionally could, then it was a minor attack.

"No." Annie forced a smile. "Not at all."

…

"My name's Beetee. I work as the technical support here." A thin man wearing wire glasses nodded at Finnick.

"I'm Thresh. I help out with the gardening and the cafeteria, my little sister Rue's admitted here." A huge guy with dark skin said, taking a bite out of his sandwich.

"Paylor. I'm the head psychiatrist." The woman sat opposite Finnick grunted. Mentally, he sighed. _Really? I have to spend all my time with _this _group of people? A nerd, a charity head and some shrink._

Finnick glanced up from his plastic plate, blinking when he realised that the whole table was staring at him.

"Um, I'm Finnick. I'm a vandal and I don't want to be here." He said, shrugging his shoulders.

"And _I'm _Tiffany." A bleach blonde girl slid into the only free seat, next to Finnick. "But you can call me Tiff."

"Finnick." He grinned. _That's more like it._

"Tiffany's a maid. She's actually supposed to be _working _right now." Paylor said sternly, but Tiffany only shrugged.

"You got a maid outfit?" Finnick asked, winking.

"Of course. Maybe if you're lucky, I'll let you see it." Tiffany giggled, placing her hand on Finnick's chest. Before he could reply, Finnick felt a sharp tug on his ear. He was pulled out of the seat and dragged out of the room before he could even yelp.

"Flirting with the staff is not allowed, Mr Odair." Mags said once they were stood outside of the dining room.

"Aw, Mags." Finnick whined.

"I remember you, Finnick. You made it through reception. You made it all the way to Annie Cresta's corridor before we caught you. I made my security guards drag out a fourteen year old boy, who was kicking and screaming for his best friend. Please be the man she would want you to be." Mags walked off, leaving Finnick in the corridor with his jaw on the floor.

…

"So…What do you do for fun?" Finnick asked, drumming his fingers against the arm of his chair. The patient sat opposite him glowered at him, and refused to say a word. She had olive skin, grey eyes and her hair was braided messily. Finnick rolled his eyes and sighed.

"No? Okay." He leaned closer in. "Look, Katniss. Mags said that I need to get more acquainted with the patients, including you.. Don't want to get to know me? Fine. Your loss."

"She won't talk to any of the male volunteers except Gale." Finnick turned around when he realised that the person was talking to him.

"Huh?" He grunted intelligently.

"My name's Finch." The girl said, sitting down next to Katniss.

"Finnick." He said. He was so grateful that one of the patients was actually _talking _to him that he didn't notice Finch's face fall.

"You know Annie, don't you?" She asked uneasily.

"Yes, is she alright?" Finnick asked. His eyes had visibly widened- if this girl knew Annie, he wanted to know everything that had happened since she was admitted.

"Ask her yourself." Finch shrugged and pointed towards the doors.

Finnick turned around slowly. Annie Cresta, his childhood best friend, had pushed open the door to the lounge and walking in slowly. Finnick noted that she was paler than before, and not a lot taller. Her pretty dark hair was messy and she had an insane glint in her eyes- but to Finnick, she was still his beautiful best friend.

"Annie." He breathed. The four years it had been since he had seen her seemed to evaporate into nothingness as he made his way towards her.

"Annie." Finnick said again, louder this time. He reached his arms out to pull her in for a hug.

Annie let out an ear shattering scream and kicked him hard in the groin. She backed away from him, and then Finnick saw the fear and hatred in her eyes when she looked at her old best friend.


End file.
